


Nice Old Ladies Aren't Always Nice

by boredom



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Ghost Stories, Halloween, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredom/pseuds/boredom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just something fun I did for Halloween. As we all know, ghost stories around a campfire can be scary and fun. But when Merlin tells his, did it really happen, or does Merlin just have a good imagination?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Old Ladies Aren't Always Nice

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone knows about Merlin's magic in this. I don't know how or why, but they do.

"And then, when I woke up the next morning, she wasn't a she at all. But a he!" Gwaine cried, waggling his fingers dramatically as the campfire flickered dramatically. Everyone groaned. 

"That's not scary at all," Elyan sighed, resting his chin on his hand. Gwaine crossed his arms and pouted.

"It is if the person you took to bed the previous night started out being female and turned into a male," he said. 

"It don't think it works like that," Leon sighed. He was leaning back against a log, picking the grass out of the ground and looking thoroughly bored with the events that were happening at the moment. 

"Well it was scarier than what the rest of you came up with! Honestly, Princess, an evil bunny rabbit?" Gwaine snapped. 

"Hey, you all screamed when it ripped out Sir Galahad’s throat!" Arthur defended. 

"That's only because Merlin fell off the log and rolled down the hill." Percival said dryly. “We thought he hurt himself.: Gwaine sniggered and patted Merlin on the back. Merlin glared at them. It wasn’t like he meant to go rolling down a hill.

"Well, just one more of these stupid stories and then we can go home," Leon mumbled. 

"Hey, it was your idea to do something spooky for Samhain!" Elyan cried. Though he was just as bored as Leon and wanted to go home.

"I thought it would be more entertaining. So far the highlight of our evening was Merlin's short disappearance," he muttered. Merlin mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and glared at Leon.

“Careful, Sir Leon, wouldn’t want Merlin to turn you into a frog,” Percival grinned.

“I’m not going to turn Leon into a frog,” Merlin sighed. He tried to brush Gwaine off his shoulders, but the man held firm. 

"Well Merlin, do you think you're up to telling us something really scary?" Gwaine said, wiggling his fingers in Merlin’s face. Merlin chuckled and pushed Gwaine's hands away from his face. 

"I have something that is going to terrify you all," he said with a grin. 

"Really, what makes you so sure?" Arthur smirked. “You’re not exactly one to have frightening encounters. Even with your magic the scariest thing you’ve had to do was probably catch a pixie.” The others chuckled at Arthur’s statement. 

"First off, pixies are terrifying. Tricky devils, it’s almost impossible to catch one. Secondly, it’s scary because it actually happened." 

"This isn't one of those 'my friend's mother's grandmother's best friend from the farm experienced it after she drank a gallon of mead, is it?" Percival groaned. 

"No, no. It actually happened to me," Merlin said. Leon raised an eyebrow. 

"Really?" he said, not quiet believing Merlin. While the boy had experienced some scary events, most of those had been with Arthur or other knights. They wouldn’t be shocked by the tale of the Questing Beast or scared by Arthur’s stepmother being a troll. 

"Sit back and let me tell you something about horror," Merlin said with a smirk. 

"This ought to be good," Arthur snickered. 

"You never know, Merlin could end up having a truly frightening story," Leon said. Merlin shifted in his seat before crossing his arms and staring off into the woods. The knights got the distinct impression that Merlin was trying to build suspense. They shifted in their seats nervously and sat in silence. Finally, Merlin started.

"It was when I was moving to Camelot..." 

oOoOoOo

Merlin had decided to take the roads to Camelot. Sure, it would extend his trip. But Merlin being Merlin, he needed more safety if he was going to get to Camelot in one piece. He, of course, could use magic . But Merlin wasn't entirely in control of it. He would hate to accidently hurt someone who was completely innocent. So he walked from village to village. Taking major roads and often meeting up with groups going similar ways. It was safer than going by himself through the forest. The added bonus to this was that there was usually an inn or stable he could sleep in, instead of on the cold ground. About four nights in, Merlin was making great time. By this rate, he would arrive in Camelot ahead of schedule. He should have known his luck was about to run out. 

The last group he had come across had separated from him a few miles ago. So, for the first time since he started, he was traveling alone. He entered a sad looking village, the people all ragged and poor. More so than in Ealdor. Their blank gazes penetrated to Merlin's very soul. He felt himself shuddering under their scrutiny. As he got further in, the people began emerging from their houses. Hunched over and barefoot. Hair tangled knots on their heads. Dirt and what appeared to be tears stains covering their faces. Merlin’s heart started beating harder as he continued deeper into the village. The people shuffling behind him, following him into the heart. Merlin didn’t feel safe here. He would have continued on, except it was getting dark. And it looked as though it was about to rain any second. So, Merlin put away his fear and stepped forward. He asked if they had an inn. The people replied that they did not. He asked if there was any place, a barn perhaps. The people stared blankly at him, the soulless eyes of dolls. But the atmosphere disappeared as an old woman stepped forward. 

"I have an extra room, if you would like to stay." Merlin smiled and thanked the woman, following her back to her house. He entered the small cottage. "I'm Hannah, by the way," she said. 

"Merlin," Merlin replied, shaking the woman's hand. It was withered with age. It felt as though the skin had started to separate from the bones, leaving it a more or less a bag, barely holding the body together. She too looked haggard and poor. Dirt streaked her face and hair. Her clothing hung off her frame like a sack. Merlin took his eyes off the woman, feeling as though it was rude to stare, and looked around the town. Houses were in an utter state of disrepair. Roofs had caved in. The roads were uneven. Crops looked as though they hadn’t been watered in some time. Black and decaying. A horse neighed in the distance. Merlin jumped. The wind howled with such pain. He didn’t like it here. He wanted to leave.

"Do you live alone, Hannah?" Merlin asked, trying to bring himself back to reality. It was all in his head. Lots of villages were poor like this one. There was no reason to treat it so differently because it was getting dark out, and it was a new moon. 

"Aye, I do, I used to have a daughter named Evangeline. But she died from a bandit attack. An arrow right through her head. But when she was alive, oh, you should have seen her, such life," she said happily. She continued talking as the two made their way to her house. Once inside, Merlin sat down at the table and smiled. In his mind, every child should be talked about by their parent in the way that Hannah talked about Evangeline. 

She told Merlin how the girl would steal sweets and then blame the theft on the pigs. How she would run around with friends, both imaginary and real, making up such worlds that one could not argue they were not real. As the darkness kept reaching further and further into the house, the candle getting lower and lower, Merlin asked if he could go to bed. He needed to continue tomorrow morning. Hannah said she didn't mind and lead him to a room. 

"Is this Evangeline's? Merlin asked. There was nothing really special about this room. It was plain and simple. A small bed on one side, a dresser full of knickknacks on the other. A small wardrobe that looked as though it hadn’t been opened in some time. 

"It is. I hope you don't mind," Hannah replied. 

"I don't. I just wanted to ensure I wasn't being disrespectful. I would hate to do so. I really don't mind sleeping on the floor," Merlin said. 

"No, no. I'm glad this old room has something good happening in it, for the first time in a long time," Hannah laughed. She picked up an old doll and brushed back her hair lovingly. It was a simple cloth doll most peasant girls had. The hair made from straw. Button eyes sewn onto its head. What caught Merlin’s eye was the beautiful embroidery pattern that adorned the doll’s side. It was stitched with such care and precision, it looked like art. Never had Merlin seen such beauty with sewing. Hannah must have spent a long time stitching that into the doll. Before Merlin could ask about it, Hannah set the doll down on the dresser. 

"Well, goodnight," she said before taking her leave. Merlin laid down in the bed and listened to the rain pattering outside. He felt bad for Hannah and this village. Cenred did not care about his people in any way. No one should have to suffer so much because their king did not want to do anything. With this thought, Merlin fell asleep. 

A child's laugh woke him violently. Merlin’s eye's snapped open and he bolted up right in his bed. 

"Who's there?" he asked. it sounded as though the sound had come from within the room, not outside. Merlin cautiously put his feet on the ground and lit a candle. Shining it around his room. The light first fell on the doll. Merlin jumped but then relaxed. It was only a doll. He continued to shine the candle around the room. He could see no one. "Must have been a dream," he muttered before laying down. But something was plaguing his mind. The doll was in a different spot than when he fell asleep. Hannah had put the doll on the right side of the dresser, Merlin was sure of that. But, when he shined his candle on it, it had moved to the left side. Merlin pushed the thought out of his mind. He probably wasn’t paying enough attention to where Hannah had placed the toy. It wasn’t as if dolls could move. He didn't even fall asleep before the laugh rang through the room again.   
Merlin sat up and jumped off the bed. He reached for the candle on the bedside table only to discover it wasn’t there. Merlin started breathing heavily. He had set the candle down right beside him. He was sure of that. He may not have remembered the placement of the doll, but he remembered where he put the candle. He shook his head violently and tried to keep himself from panicking. 

"It's not real," he said to himself. "It's just a lucid dream. It’s not real,” he repeated. Merlin lay back on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut, determined to get some sleep. He felt a sharp jab to his shoulder and yelped. He didn't dare open his eyes. He didn't want the last vision he saw to be of a monster. So he thought of his mother and Will back in Ealdor. He focused on them, what they sounded like. What they looked like. He tried his hardest to ignore the pokes and laughs that continually bombarded him all round. Eventually, he managed to fall asleep.

The next morning, Merlin awoke to find the doll had moved yet again. She was now sitting at the edge of Merlin’s bed. Merlin didn’t waste any time yanking on his boats and running to the door. But things just couldn’t go his way. One look out the door had told Merlin all he needed to know. He wasn’t leaving this town. It appeared as though the gods were trying to flood this village off the map. 

"Sorry, Merlin." Hannah said. "It looks as though you can't leave after all," she smiled warmly. 

"No, I have to go. I'm expected by my uncle," Merlin said. In truth, he just wanted out of this village. He should have never stayed here. He should have just braved the woods after feeling so afraid the moment he laid eyes on this pitiful little village. 

"Won’t you help me with some household chores though? An old woman like me, I don't have the strength.” Merlin looked at Hannah and sighed. He should try and help this woman. After all, she did give him a place to stay for the night. Even if his sleep gave him bruises. So he helped patched the roof, walked through the house, helping fix little things, cleaned, canned some food, and other household chores. 

Merlin was dusting the shelves and decided to also clean Evangeline’s room. He didn’t want to step foot in there again, but Hannah needed chores to be done. He cautiously peered into the door, only to see the doll sitting at the head of the bed, leaning casually against the wall. Legs crossed and a sick smile on her face. Merlin was convinced that the doll was moving on its own.

"Maybe Hannah moved it," he said out loud. He resolved to ignore the doll. The worst it had done last night was poke him and laugh. It probably couldn’t hurt him. It didn’t even have any bones to move about properly. He turned to dust the shelves. Once satisfied, he decided to make the bad. He turned around to discover the doll was no longer on the bed at all, but rather standing in the middle of the room. It wasn’t leaning on anything this time. It was just standing in the middle of the room, smiling at Merlin like it was alive.

"Impossible," Merlin breathed, backing away slowly. The doll was made from cloth. There was nothing in it that could make it stand as if it had bones. Merlin accidently backed into a shelf, knocking over some trinkets that decorated it. He scrambled to pick them up in a panic. He looked up to see the doll inches from his face. By this time, Merlin had had enough. Rain or no rain, he was leaving this cursed place. 

He placed the knickknacks back on the shelve. He turned to run only to feel two cloth hands wrapping around his neck. The cloth tightened impossibly tight around his neck. Merlin's vision went fuzzy and his magic flared up. He was going to die by the hands of a doll. Will would tease him forever, but the man would have probably screamed by now if he was in this house. 

In a panic, Merlin prayed for his magic to aid him. Luckily, it answered. He felt the doll being torn from his throat and flung across the room. Merlin scrambled up, grabbed his bag, and then began sprinting out the door. He ran into Hannah on the way out. 

"Going so soon?" she hissed before chanting words in the old religion. Words that were so dark they made Merlin nauseous. These words were that of the blackest magic. Magic that was only talked about in hushed voices, for fear that the witches who cast them would not hesitate to cast another. Words that made even the bravest of men tremble and run.

It was easier to attack a doll, Merlin figured, than it was to attack a woman. But, Merlin was still in survival mode. He wasted no time picking up the nearest log and bashing Hannah on the head with it. A little violent, yes. Necessary, hell yes. The woman crumpled to the ground, allowing Merlin to escape. He sprinted out the door. The rain quickly soaking his entire body through. He slipped through the mud, knowing he would never be able to make his way out of the village, Merlin decided on plan B. He stumbled to the nearest house and began knocking desperately on the door. He needed help if he was going to defeat the witch. The door opened with a creak and Merlin fell in. He looked up to see a girl, no older than eleven, standing there. The doll from Evangeline's room was clasped in her hands and arrow was sticking from her face. Her dress hung in tatters around her and Merlin could just barely see through her small body. But that wasn't the terrifying part. The terrifying part was the fact that on either side of here were cloth dolls the size of actual men. Their large button eyes and painted on smiles imprinted themselves onto Merlin’s mind. On their sides was the same beautiful pattern of embroidery that had been on the doll in Hannah’s house. Merlin was paralyzed in the spot. He couldn’t move his feet. He couldn’t move his hand. He couldn’t even close his eyes and prey. Evangeline stood there silently before pointing at Merlin. Arm raising slowly, heavily. Evangeline’s body didn’t move with the hand. She remained motionless.

The dolls took a clumsy step forward. This was enough to unfreeze Merlin. He turned to run, his back to the dolls. His hands, still slick with mud grasped the door and flung it open. He went to step outside, but not before a searing pain was scratched across his right shoulder. He turned to see one of the cloth dolls had four knives sewn into its hand. Four knives that were dragging across Merlin's flesh, tearing at his shirt, spilling his blood. With a shout, Merlin sent the dolls and Evangeline flying across the house, burying them under piles of wood. He continued to run through the village, more cloth dolls shuffling out of the houses and following Merlin towards the woods. Merlin began throwing magic left and right, hoping to get rid of some of the threats that plagued him. 

He managed to get to the forest. Finally, Merlin was free. But something felt as though a hand had grabbed his ankle. His feet were pulled out from underneath him and Merlin landed face first in the dirt. The rain had slowed, but it was still turning the earth into mud. He turned over to see Hannah standing there with a doll in her hands. Merlin tried to move, but it felt as though his limbs were tethered to the ground. Behind Hannah, about thirty cloth dolls stood there silently, awaiting the command of their mistress. Evangeline’s image flickered before becoming solid next to Hannah.

Hannah grinned at Merlin, the blood dripping down her face from where Merlin had attacked her before. She held the doll up to the moon and took a needle and thread. She put it to the doll and began stitching its side. Pain exploded in Merlin's side as Hannah continued to sew. Merlin could feel the blood seeping from his wounds and he feared for his life. He knew that Hannah was stitching that same pattern into Merlin. He was going to be turned into one of these dolls. He was never getting out of here, not if he didn’t manage to fight back. Praying to the gods and reaching desperately for his magic, Merlin felt his whole body explode with pain. A light so blinding shot through the forest. Merlin heard Hannah and Evangeline both scream before sinking into unconsciousness. 

oOoOoOo

"So, then what happened?" Gwaine asked. He had wrapped his arms around Merlin and was squeezing. Hard. Percival and Elyan were also huddled together. Leon and Arthur were the only two not desperately clinging to someone, but both had moved closer to the fire and were looking nervously around the woods, eyes darting from tree to tree. Merlin smiled and shrugged. 

"A traveling party found me the next day. Apparently I was still covered in blood, but I had moved from the spot I fell the previous night. I was almost a day from the village I had stayed at," Merlin said. Arthur gave a nervous laugh. 

"Well, you've got some imagination Merlin," he said. A stick snapped and all the men screamed before jumping together and clinging to each other.

"I think we can all agree that Merlin’s the winner tonight," Leon said in a slightly higher pitched voice. Everyone nodded.

“Let’s call it a night,” Percival said shakily. The crew packed up, everyone visibly more shaken than before, and headed back to the castle. 

I told you," Merlin’s said quietly, "it actually happened." Everyone nodded, not willing to argue, before reaching the castle and going their separate ways. That night, only Merlin managed to sleep. Elyan had asked Gwen to put her childhood doll in a box and then leave it outside. Gwaine slept with the fireplace roaring and several candles lit. Percival continually got out of bed to check every nook and cranny, making sure no ghost girls had managed to sneak in. Leon just sat there in a corner, sharpening his sword. And Arthur, Arthur slept in the throne room, unwilling to sleep in his room. However, within the week, the men had calmed down and were no longer afraid. After all, Merlin’s story was just that, a story. There was nothing to be afraid of. There was no Hannah and no Evangeline, no matter what Merlin said. 

Weeks later, Merlin accidently fell into a bucket of water. He pulled his shirt off to dry it and all the knights gasped. On his right shoulder were four scratch marks that looked like he had been slashed with a knife. And on his side, a scarring pattern that looked like embroidery. Maybe, Merlin was telling the truth after all.


End file.
